


When We Were Alive

by wrlfgang



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cute, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Legilimency, Love, Occlumency, Requited Love, Teen Angst, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:46:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5334614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrlfgang/pseuds/wrlfgang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>At the start, they had been strangers. And at the end, they were to be strangers still. For they were sixteen and rich beyond numbers. They were children of the war who wanted for nothing.</i>
</p>
<p>Scorpius Malfoy had scarce intention of knowing Rose Weasley. He'd read about her in history books and his father's guilty tabloids. She was born to heroes and he was born to broken names. It was all he had needed to know. He never needed to know Rose Weasley. But Rose had a heart like silver sunshine and that had ruined everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Information

**Author's Note:**

> **_“As much money and life as you could want!”_ -Albus Dumbledore**

So this fic has begun and ended and begun and ended and begun again. I keep setting the start of the story back further in time because I kept realizing there was more that needed to be known.

However, this will be the final revision to the timeline. The story has been updated and the chapters you've read have disappeared for now, consider them a taste of what's to come perhaps, and now you can begin again (I'm sorry!). This is where this story was meant to begin.

I hope you enjoy. x


	2. A Train for Sixth

Smoke drifted through the open doors of the train, an echo of the station they were soon to leave. Students chattered and squeezed into compartments, trunks thumping as they swept their heavy luggage onto the overhead racks. Occasionally a frog croaked or a cat mewed though both animals were often drowned out by the disgruntled hooting of newly caged owls.

Rose pressed through the clusters of friends reconnecting after summers of adventures away. Her trunk hung heavy from her hand, reluctant to be lugged along, and her small cat clung anxiously to Rose’s arms. Up ahead, somewhere in the small crowd, she spotted a flash of golden hair and smiled.

“Alice!” she shouted above the crowd, “Alice!”

The sunshine-haired girl spun on her heel and broke into a grin, “Rose!” she called back, making her way towards her, “It’s absolute madness in here, isn’t it?”

Rose nodded her agreement, “Albus and his friends have snagged a compartment already, he said we could join them once I’d found you.”

Alice wrinkled her nose, “I suppose that’s alright. I assume you forced Albus to agree to let me in?”

Rose shrugged, leading Alice down the slender hall of the train, “Personally I wouldn’t say ‘forced’ so much as… persuaded?”

Alice rolled her eyes but followed anyway.

Rose threw open the compartment door and pulled her trunk and Alice inside, “Hello,” she said happily, letting her cat free from her arms to curl up beneath the compartment bench.

Alice helped heft their trunks onto the rack before settling onto the bench, as far from Albus as possible and beside Wesley Moon. Rose squeezed herself opposite Albus and between the window and Ernest Yuthborrow, the first friend Albus had made at Hogwarts.

“Hello, Rose,” Ernest smiled kindly, budging over a bit to make room for her, “Hello, Alice. Good summer, both of you?”

Alice nodded excitedly, “Wonderful, really. Our family took a trip to Spain to look at the Spanish Academy for Quidditch and you wouldn’t believe that place, it’s massive.”

“You’re thinking of going there after Hogwarts?” Ernest asked and Rose let her eyes wander out the window, watching the station become smaller and smaller. They were only just beginning their sixth year and already it felt as though so many of her peers were looking at post-Hogwarts academies. Rose just wanted to stay at Hogwarts.

“Hey, Rose,” Wesley said, glancing at his watch, “We ought to get going for the prefects meeting.”

“Hm?” Rose hummed, dragging her gaze from the window and checking her own watch, “Oh, you’re right. Well then,” she said, standing up, “see you all soon.”

“So,” Wesley asked as they made their way towards the prefect’s compartment, “how have you been?” His words left awkward and hung weighted in the air.

“Good, good…” Rose said, eyes settled on her feet.

“About this summer–,” Wesley began.

“So what happened was–,” Rose started simultaneously before a blush rose up in her dark cheeks, “Sorry, you go.”

Wesley stopped walking, glancing around at the empty hall nervously, “It was probably a mistake, huh?”

Rose nodded quickly, “Definitely. Had to have been. You’re Al’s friend.”

“And you’re my friend’s cousin,” Wesley finished, nodding as well.

“It was just dark,” Rose reasoned, “and we were bored.”

“And the stars were way too bright,” Wesley added.

“Exactly,” she agreed, “and Al left us all alone on that picnic blanket.”

“You’re right,” he said, “it’s not our fault. It’s Al’s fault, he was supposed to just hang out with us, not get tired and go to bed.”

Rose was humming in agreement, her nods becoming quicker, “True, all exactly true.”

“I kind of want to kiss you right now,” Wesley said, voice stressed, “That’s blimey, right?”

“Absolutely mental!” Rose said, “We can’t do that again.”

“You’re right, of course, you’re right,” he said.

Rose’s hands grabbed for his jumper, lips pressing quick against his. Wesley gave a startled noise of surprise before wrapping his hands quick around her waist. Rose let him press her close against the corridor wall until she realized it wasn’t a wall at all, but a door.

“Shit,” Wesley muttered as they tumbled into a narrow supply closet, “sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No, no,” Rose brushed away his apology, “this works out. This is convenient.”

Wesley’s grin was like the summer and she remembered the way he’d made her feel in August. Rose’s bones tingled like she’d grabbed hold of a loose wire. She snapped the door behind them and was back against him in a moment. His smooth hands gripped at her freckled thighs as he pulled them up and up, hooking her legs around his waist. Rose felt her back hit the wall behind them and she could feel the chill of the thin wall sharp against her back, leaking through her delicate white school shirt. Wesley’s hands, warm and soft, traveled up her abdomen, slipping beneath her top.

His lips left her without a breath, kisses coming quick and easy. Rose’s fingers slipped through his glossed hair as he left pale kisses down her slender throat and across her shoulder. She’d missed this. Rose had missed this terribly. She dragged his lips back to hers, pressing fast and hard against him, in a rush to feel the heat that spread down her spine when he kissed her.

“Wes,” Rose hummed breathlessly, thoughts flying away from her.

And it was this that gave Scorpius pause. Scorpius Malfoy had attended the prefect’s meeting, ever one to appreciate a well-thought schedule. He had, as had been the case the year before, been appointed train corridor patrol. After consideration, Scorpius was sure the only reason he repeatedly got stuck with said duty was because he was the only one unlikely to refuse. He didn’t mind too much. His friends would be there when his rounds were finished.

Typically, these patrols were uneventful. He would walk up and down the corridor a few times, make sure students weren’t performing magic just yet, and then return to his own compartment to discuss the chances of the Arrows making it to the World Cup. Admittedly, that conversation generally ended with everyone except himself agreeing the Arrows would never make the Cup.

Today, however, Scorpius had heard something other than silence and echoes of laughter. First, he had heard the crashes. He’d spun on his foot and set off through the train, in hopes of finding something interesting for once. His wand had told him he’d reached the source of the noise but Scorpius glanced around and saw only the empty car. Then he had heard her voice. Breathy and soft, hardly audible. But he had heard it. He knocked lightly on the door.

“Hello?” he said, fist still poised near the door.

No response.

Sighing regretfully, Scorpius swung open the little door and washed the room in light.

Rose gave a squeak and jumped to the floor, pushing Wesley away. She did up her shirt, missing a few buttons here and there in her haste. A blush bloomed quick in Wesley’s light face.

Scorpius knew her, of course. How could someone not know the great Rose Weasley? Pretty as a painting, one article had complimented. He hadn’t quite understood that article. Surely not all paintings were pretty, Scorpius had thought. It appeared, the Daily Prophet had been correct. Rose Weasley stood raw in front of him and he’d never seen someone quite like this. She was the oil paints that dazzled in sunlight and hung stunning in museums. Freckles peppered her cheeks, delicate and precise. Perhaps someone had painted her from a dream. She wasn’t quite real. She was honey and paintings and soft sunshine. Scorpius was more taken aback than he could’ve expected to be. He felt something settle in his bones then, something new and terrifying. Scorpius wished he hadn’t seen Rose Weasley that day. He wished he hadn’t seen her at all.


	3. Uncommon Common Rooms

Rose thumped back onto her familiar bed, already warm and inviting. The thick blue bed-curtains rustled around her anxiously, gold embroidered stars twinkling softly. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to press out the memories of the train ride. Vaguely, she heard someone else enter the room and walk past Rose’s bed. It had to be Alice, then, Rose decided.

Sure enough, Alice’s voice cut through the air only moments later, “So, what happened?”

“What are you talking about?” Rose asked, pressing her palms into her eyes.

Alice rolled her eyes and began dressing for bed, “Let’s see, before the prefect’s meeting, you were perfectly normal. After the meeting, you looked like you’d stared into the sun. I think Abigail noticed too,” Alice taunted. Rose groaned, if Abigail Dowson noticed something, the entire house may as well know.

Rose sat up and glanced around, content to find the dormitory otherwise unoccupied, “I should give you a bit of backstory first.”

Alice sat upon her bed, tucking her feet beneath her, “Go on.”

She hadn’t wanted to tell Alice through letter, she had an itching feeling that her mum occasionally read her letters, so she’d waited. And now, in the dusk of their cosy dormitory, Rose recounted August.

Wesley’s parents had agreed to let Wesley stay at the Potters for a few days, not unusual for Albus and his friends. It was only unusual that Rose was to be staying with the Potters as well. Hermione and Ron, ever the public figures, were to be attending a multi-day conference on how to better extend rights to house elves. Rose and Hugo, unenthused by the idea of sitting in a muggy conference room, were to stay with the Potters. 

It had been a Wednesday evening when Albus suggested playing chess in the garden. They’d laid out a fraying blanket and set up a ragged wizard’s chess board. Hours disappeared as they played winner, Albus slowly becoming the most likely to lose. He’d given up as darkness began to enclose them, retiring to the house, declaring Rose and Wesley welcome to play until dawn for all he cared. They had, of course, done a bit more than play chess.

“Did he kiss you?” Alice asked, “Or did you kiss him?”

Rose blushed, grateful she’d gotten her mother’s skin and the blush scarcely showed, “I kissed him.”

Alice tossed a pillow at Rose, “Rose! That’s wonderful! That was your first one, wasn’t it?”

Rose nodded shyly.

A bright smile swept over Alice’s face, “Was he good? Did it happen more than once? And don’t think I’ve forgotten about your strange mood today, we can get to that in a bit.”

“He was good,” Rose admitted, a small smile gracing her lips, “really good, to be entirely honest. It, er, sort of happened a lot after that. Whenever we could get away from Albus, really.”

Alice giggled, “That sounds completely fantastic. Now, explain what the hell happened at your prefect’s meeting.”

“Well, we didn’t really get to the meeting. We sort of got, er, sidetracked?” Rose said, feeling her cheeks bloom even warmer.

Alice waggled her eyebrows, “Ooo,” she joked, “Snogging in the corridor? How daring of you.”

“I mean it started that way but we kind of, accidentally, ended up in a closet. So we were in there and, er, got interrupted…” Rose trailed off.

“What?” Alice asked, “By who?”

“Scorpius Malfoy.”

“Honest?”

“Completely,” Rose said, “He just opened up the door and there we were. Oh, it was awful, Alice.”

Alice stood up and moved to sit beside Rose, placing a comforting arm around Rose’s thin shoulders, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. He probably didn’t even recognize you. It must’ve been dark in there, yeah?”

Rose shook her head, “He saw us. He looked right at me. Merlin, I hope he didn’t see my bra.”

“Don’t worry, Rosie,” Alice consoled, “He doesn’t seem the type to tease you for it later.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rose agreed, “He looked surprised though, like he wasn’t expecting to see me.”

“I bet he didn’t even think anything of it. He’s a prefect, you guys see that rubbish all the time.”

Rose nodded, hoping Scorpius Malfoy had forgotten all about it. She herself couldn’t seem to forget the look in his bright gray eyes. She’d called it surprised but really, Rose wasn’t quite sure what it was.

 

* * *

 

Scorpius was draped across a plush green sofa, the same Slytherin sofa he had often occupied throughout his time at Hogwarts. Today, however, he couldn’t get himself comfortable no matter how he tried.

“Stop squirming,” Iva Dragovik, Scorpius’ long-time and childhood friend, said without looking up from her book, “It’s giving me a headache.”

“What’s got you all worked up anyway, mate?” Aramis Faust, another close friend of Scorpius’, asked, “You’ve been titchy all afternoon. They laying down new rules at your prefect meeting?”

Scorpius shook his head, “No, nothing like that, don’t worry.”

Iva rolled her eyes, “‘Don’t worry,’ he says, as if that will immediately excuse this odd behaviour.”

“Just tell us,” Aramis urged, “Iva would get it out of you sooner or later, you know.”

“Fine,” Scorpius said, relenting in his fight for comfort and sitting open across the sofa, “I was doing corridor patrols after the meeting and I found people snogging in a closet.”

Iva hummed, “No, that’s not all of it.”

“Excuse me?” Scorpius asked.

“Please, you catch people after hours in peculiar places all the time,” Iva reasoned, “that can’t be all.”

Scorpius took a deep breath, letting it out quick and in a huff of stale air, “It was Rose Weasley and that Moon kid. The one who’s in her house.”

“Wesley Moon?” Aramis asked and Scorpius nodded. Aramis pulled out a cigarette and propped it between his lips, ignoring the bewildered looks from first years. Iva reached across the living area to light it with her wand.

“You know why Rose Weasley’s got him all in a state, don’t you, Ari?” Iva said, settling back into her chair, sharp eyebrows raised.

Aramis shook his head, “Why’s that?”

“Our poor Scorpius has fancied her since we were old enough to make out words in the Prophet,” Iva said with a smirk.

“Fuck off,” Scorpius mumbled, snatching the cigarette from between Aramis’ lips and taking a drag.

“Really now?” Aramis asked, already reaching for his cigarette back. “How’d that come to be?”

“Scor saw her in the Prophet when we were real young and he pointed to her and told his mum, ‘I wanna marry that girl, mummy’.” Iva’s smirk was sharp and daunting, pushing the limits ever slightly.

“That is entirely false,” Scorpius amended, “I read the articles about her family, as I’m sure everyone did, and she was always… Interesting. She never cared that everything she did would end up in a tabloid. She just did it anyway.” Scorpius had never really thought he fancied her. It felt more akin to envy. He wished he could behave however he pleased and have the world love him anyway. Rose Weasley had been born into public adoration. Scorpius Malfoy had been born into public abjection.


End file.
